


One for the Road

by thebasement_archivist



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:46:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder gets his turn.





	One for the Road

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

One for the Road by Ekiedro

X/Story: 6 July 1998  
ArchiveX: 12 July 1998  
One for the Road  
A Homicide X-Files Crossover  
Spoilers: The End  
Disclaimer: As always, Mulder, Scully and all things conspiracy-esque belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. The Homicide folks and their bar belong to NBC and Barry Levinson.  
Notes: The companion piece to Stranger's Kiss, Mulder gets his turn. Both The mood and the title are inspired by Frank Sinatra singing "One for My Baby And One More for the Road" 

* * *

One for the Road  
by Ekiedro ()

If it weren't for the clothing, Tim thought, you might think it was 1951. A heavy haze of smoke, rare in these health conscious days, hung over the bar, the jukebox had been playing swing all night, and martinis were the drinks of choice. He didn't know what to make of the crowd's retro mood, but he wasn't going to complain; it was great for business.

As the night wore on, the crowd drifted off, but the timewarp effect they had created remained. The mood had shifted, though. An air of melancholy hung over the bar. The jukebox played blues and "she done him wrong" ballads. None of the patrons talked to each other; they were all solitary drinkers. Slowly all, but a desperate few drifted out. The people left weren't there to have fun; they were there because they didn't have anywhere else to be.

A man sitting at the end of the bar signaled, and Tim moved to take his order.

"Give me another."

The man had been there for several hours. Tim had been busy, but he remembered serving the guy several times before. It was probably time to cut him off.

"Sir, you've probably had enough."

"Who are you to tell me I've had enough?" Despite the words, the man's tone was flat and even, not angry.

"Your bartender, that's who."

"Cut me a break. I've just had the worst day of my life. Give me another."

Tim was ready to pass the guy off as another drunk, until he looked into his eyes. There was sadness and a look of total loss. All of Tim's protective instincts came into play, and he offered what little help he could.

"You want to talk about it?"

The man gave a bitter chuckle. "That should be my line. Ah, hell, why not? Everyone else thinks I'm a nut, why should you be any different?

"They shut down the X-Files and they burned the office. Everything I've ever worked for, gone. The only real home I had, gone. Of course, Scully and Skinner expect me to bounce right back. "Heck, Mulder's been dead twice, what's a little thing like arson." Maybe I should just give up. I fight and I fight and I never seem to get anywhere. I'm just so damn tired."

Something in the man's story reminded Tim of another stranger that had wandered into the bar. Maybe it was the air of desperation, or the story that no sane person would believe. Both men had an air about them, like they belonged in an entirely different universe than the one Tim lived in. He remembered what he had said to the other man, and asked a similar question.

"Is it important?"

"What?"

"What you were doing, was it important? If it is, it's worth fighting for."

Tim watched the man's face as he processed the advice. Slowly, something changed in the man's eyes. It wasn't much. The sadness, that was still there, but the look of total loss had disappeared. Tim realized he was staring at the man's beautiful hazel eyes. He was going to look away when he realized the man was staring right back. The last time there had been a handsome stranger across from him at the bar, Tim had frozen, and events had gotten away from him. He wasn't going to let that happen this time. He looked around the bar; everyone was absorbed in his or her drinks. He reached across the bar, pulled the man close, and kissed him. The man didn't pull away or act upset at all. In fact, he responded enthusiastically. The kiss went on until lack of air forced them to part. Tim was about to say something, ask the man home, maybe, when the door opening shattered the mood.

A determined looking redhead walked in, her entire focus on the man.

"Mulder, where the hell have you been? Why did you turn your cell phone off?"

The man looked like he was about to respond, defend himself, but he was interrupted by the woman.

"Never mind, Skinner's looking for us. New assignments, probably."

The man got up and started to follow the woman out. He stopped and turned to look at Tim. His expression, which mirrored Tim's, expressed regret at what might have been. Then he shrugged and followed the redhead out into the night.


End file.
